


Machine Oil and Coffee

by aceschwarz222



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 11:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16597472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceschwarz222/pseuds/aceschwarz222
Summary: Tony Stark learns why Peter Parker still carries around a ratty old blanket at fifteen years old while the teen is staying with him for a few days.Or: the time Peter Parker needed some comfort and Tony Stark was there to give it to him.





	Machine Oil and Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of a break from the Peter and Shuri updates! 
> 
> The idea came from this Tumblr post courtesy of spiderboyneedsahug: https://spiderboyneedsahug.tumblr.com/post/180011060751/peter-has-a-favourite-blanket-that-is-always-his
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Peter’s eyes shot open, and he panicked as he tried to adjust to his unfamiliar surroundings. The bed was too soft, the ceilings too high, and the windows were much larger than he was expecting. His thick blanket fell off his shoulders, and the cool air from the room brushed over his bare arms. He shivered and sat up, rocking slightly on top of the mattress.

“Your name is Peter Parker,” he whispered to the empty room. “You’re staying with Mr. Stark while Aunt May is away.” He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. “Your name is Peter Parker,” he repeated, softer this time.

Once he had regained some control of his breathing, Peter felt under his covers for his favorite object. The one that had a permanent spot in his bed at home. As soon as he felt the fuzzy fabric beneath his fingers, he pulled his childhood blanket out and pressed it against his face.

Even though it had been washed a thousands times since he was two, every time he inhaled the scent of the fabric, he swore he could still smell his mom and dad. If he used his senses and focused enough, he could still find the faint smell of lavender and old spice. He could still feel their fingers against his skin, their heartbeats against his cheeks. The blue and red fabric rubbed against his own cheek now, and he could feel where some of it was more worn out from all the years of love and anguish.

Peter swallowed thickly as tears pricked his eyes. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t-

“Mr. Parker?” FRIDAY’s voice whispered soothingly from the ceiling, interrupting Peter from his thoughts. “Your vitals indicate you may be in distress. Do you need assistance?”

Peter felt his face burn in the darkness. “N-no thanks, Fri,” he replied. He had zero desire to inconvenience Mr. Stark any more than he already had by staying in the Tower.

“Are you sure?” the AI asked. “Boss is currently awake and in the kitchen. He could be up here in less than two minutes.”

Peter shook his head, even though he knew FRIDAY couldn’t see him. “It’s, it’s okay,” he promised shakily. “I’ll be f-fine.” The room was silent once again, and he couldn’t decide if FRIDAY was judging him, or finally leaving him alone.

His grip on his blanket tightened, and he carefully slid until one foot touched the ground next to his bed. Once he made the decision to move, his body seemed to be on autopilot. He wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and made his way to the door. The lights were dim in the hall as Peter shut the door to his bedroom and tiptoed to the kitchen.

He could smell the coffee before he even entered the room, and he could hear the faint clinking of dishes against the counter. The fabric of his blanket against his shoulders almost felt like the comforting hands of parents, and it gave him just enough confidence to step out of the shadows and into the light of the kitchen.

Tony glanced up from his spot on top of the counter (because everyone knew food tasted better up there), and grinned when he spotted Peter. His hair was sticking out at all angles, and his eyes were tired, yet shiny. A small spot of grease on his chin told Peter that he had been working in the lab, and clearly he was on the verge of a breakthrough. He just needed a…

“Coffee break,” Tony explained, before Peter could open his mouth. “I’m close to figuring out the specs on a new suit design, but my brain needs a little jump start.”

“Or sleep,” Peter offered quietly.

Tony chuckled, knowing that Peter was right, but they both knew Tony would rather start hallucinating from a lack of sleep than leave a nearly-completed project unfinished. The fancy coffee machine dinged, and Tony reached over and grabbed the now-full cup. He inhaled dramatically and let out a huge sigh. He was just about to take a sip when he finally got the chance to really  _ look  _ at Peter.

The teen was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Said eyes were widening and scrunching themselves at the same time, as if his brain was fighting to control their movement. He had a white-knuckled grip on a ratty looking blanket that was draped almost protectively around his shoulders. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time to be 1:30am, well past the Spiderling’s bed time.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something was wrong.

“Peter,” he said softly, causing the boy to flinch.

“What kind of upgrades are you making?” Peter asked quickly.

Okay, deflecting. Tony could handle deflecting. He put on a smile and nodded at Peter’s blanket. “Forget about my upgrades. Since when do super heroes carry around blankets?” His grin vanished as Peter’s eyes shone with hurt. Shit, wrong response. Tony mentally cursed himself, clearly realizing his mistake. “I’m sorry, kid,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Peter didn’t respond, still rooted to his spot in the doorway.

Tony hopped down off the counter, his coffee completely forgotten, and carefully walked over to the teen. “Peter, I’m sor-”

“My parents gave it to me,” Peter said, stopping Tony in his tracks. He looked up at Tony, his chin wobbling a bit and eyes shining. “They gave it to me right before...right before they left.” He tensed his jaw and blinked a few times. “They were supposed to come back,” he practically whispered, looking down. “But they didn’t.” Warm tears streaked down his cheeks as he looked back up. “Aunt May’s gonna come back, right?” His voice cracked on the last word, and Tony felt his heart break for the kid.

“Oh, Peter.” Tony tried to give the teen his best, comforting smile. “Of course she is. She’ll be home in a few days.”

Peter nodded, but the tears kept falling. I... I k-kn-know I shouldn’t be so...so worried, but.” He shrugged helplessly. “She’s never been gone before. I don’t...I don’t want…” He tried to form the words, but his brain was processing it all way too fast. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and his heart raced as he began to panic again.

Tony stared at Peter, trying to think of how his father would have handled the situation so he could do the exact opposite. He carefully reached out and touched Peter’s shoulder. When he didn’t flinch, Tony pulled him in for a hug, carding his fingers through the boy’s ruffled hair.

“It’s okay,” he promised as he felt Peter’s arm circle his waist. “You’re okay.” He continued to hold Peter and promised himself that he wouldn’t pull away first.

Once Peter had calmed down again, his brain yelled at him for crossing a line. He pulled back from Tony as if the man’s skin were burning.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark!” he yelped. The force caused the blanket to fall to the ground, but Peter was too worked up to notice. “I’m so, so sorry!”

Tony held up his hands. “Easy, kid, easy!”

“You’re busy, I didn’t mean to-” Peter rambled. “I shouldn’t have come down, I-”

“Peter,” Tony said sternly. The inflection in his voice caused Peter to stop talking. Tony knelt down to pick the blanket off the floor, and he gently wrapped his back around Peter’s shoulders. The teen quickly resumed his tight grip on the fabric.

“I’m really glad you came to me,” he told Peter, the sincerity unmistakable in his voice. “I want you to feel like you can come to me.” He rubbed small circles against Peter’s shoulders with his thumbs until he felt the teen relax again. “Do you want to call her?” he asked suddenly.

Peter’s head perked up. “What?” he asked.

“Her training is in California, right?” Peter nodded. “With the time difference, it’s not even midnight over there yet. You can call her if you want.”

“R-r-really?” Peter couldn’t keep the hopefulness out of his voice.

Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders and guided him towards the living room. “FRIDAY, dial May Parker, please,” Tony commanded. He gently pushed Peter down onto the couch before sitting down himself. He grabbed a few pillows and placed them on his lap, and Peter instinctively laid down on top of them. Tony had just pulled the blanket off Peter and draped it back over his shoulders when May’s voice filled the room.

“Tony?” she asked, her voice laced with worry. “Is Peter okay?”

Tony poked Peter’s head, prompting the teen to answer. “H-hey, May,” he said to the ceiling.

“Peter!” Tony could almost see May visibly relaxing at the sound of her nephew’s voice. “How are you sweetie?”

Peter felt tears prick his eyes again. “Okay. I miss you,” he replied.

“Aww, I miss you too,” she promised. “Just three more days.”

Peter swallowed thickly. “Three more days,” he repeated.

“And then we can have a movie night when I get back.”

Peter smiled at the thought. “Can you make that pasta I like?”

May laughed. “Oh, kiddo, we are going to eat  _ so much _ pasta, they’ll need to roll us off the couch!”

Tony smiled as Peter smiled, and he watched the tension visibly melt off of the teen’s body. He felt a bit of pride knowing that his decision to call May had helped Peter. Maybe he didn’t suck at this after all.

Exhaustion started taking over Peter’s body, and his eyes started to droop. “Love you May,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket up under his chin.

“Love you too, baby,” he heard her reply.

He took a deep breath and inhaled the familiar scent. He could still smell the lavender from his mother, and the old spice from his father. But there was something else now...almost like machine oil and coffee. It was nice, Peter decided, feeling comforted and loved.

And with that thought, he let himself drift back to sleep.


End file.
